


From Now On

by Infinite_Hearteyes



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, F/F, Fix-It, Fluff, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 00:22:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20165071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infinite_Hearteyes/pseuds/Infinite_Hearteyes
Summary: Clarke and Lexa have to find a way to be together while dealing with their people being on the verge of war. Will they put their people first, or is their love for each other stronger than their duty? They must find a solution to keep the peace, but how will that affect their relationship?





	From Now On

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! This is a post 3x07 fix-it fic in which Lexa does NOT die, aka the way it should have been. I'm basically trying to rewrite the rest of season 3 and this will finish with a happy end for Clexa!  
Any spoken Trigedasleng will be in italics. Also, this is a re-upload from three years ago, when it was called "Empire of Our Own".  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter is called What I Need, based on the song by Hayley Kiyoko and Kehlani. Enjoy!

With the ghost of a small, content smile still lingering on her face, Clarke opened the door to her room. Her mind was swirling with everything that happened. She was going to need some time to process it all, she thought to herself. She could still feel Lexa’s lips on hers, she could still taste the salt of Lexa’s tears on her tongue. The image of Lexa sitting on the bed before her, so extremely vulnerable, yet still so strong and powerful to her, kept crossing her mind. 

As she entered the room however, her mind went back to the task of taking what little personal items she had here with her to Arkadia, and her smile disappeared. She was going to have to leave Lexa behind. And if it hadn’t already been hard to imagine leaving her before she went to say goodbye, it sure was now. She didn’t want to, but she knew she had to. It was the only way to help her people. 

As she moved forward to retrieve her sketchbook, of course filled with drawings of Lexa, she suddenly spotted a dirty, limp figure on a chair next to her bed. Her eyes widened as she realized she recognized him. It was Murphy, tied up, gagged and with dried blood across his face and matted in his hair. 

“Murphy?” She called out to him as she darted forward to check if he was okay. 

She knelt down next to him and moved her hands to fumble with the chains around his wrists when she suddenly heard a stern voice coming from the other side of her room.

“He’s alive.” 

She turned her head to see that Titus was standing next to the door, his face almost expressionless, like it usually was. She stared at him in confusion – her tone guarded as she spoke. The words came out slowly. 

“What did you do to my friend?” 

“Your friend was caught stealing from people on their way to the Polis market,” he replied, deliberately not answering Clarke’s real question. Murphy stirred slightly at his words, so Clarke looked up at him again and began to undo the piece of cloth that was gagging him, desperate for answers. 

“Hey – hey, you’re okay,” she spoke softly, but she was interrupted by Titus’ firm voice. 

“Please don’t do that.” 

Clarke looked back towards Titus, only to see him move his left hand from behind his back and move to step closer towards them. She saw something grey in his hand and after a second, her eyes widened, the confused look being replaced by one of fear, as she saw that he was holding a gun. 

Murphy also looked over at Titus while Clarke slowly rose to her feet, her hands raised at her sides. Her mind was racing. She knew she couldn’t leave Murphy behind, but there was no way she would be able to unshackle him in time if Titus’ intention was to hurt her. And from the look in his eyes, she quickly determined that that was exactly why he was here. 

“Titus, what is this about?” Clarke tried to reason, while Titus continued to move forward. 

“I’m sorry it had to come to this, Clarke. Truly, I am,” he replied, still not halting his advance. She had to think of something, and she had to do it now. She tried again. 

“Look – I’m leaving, right now. Octavia is waiting for me, just let me take Murphy and we’ll go.” 

But it was to no avail. Titus had finally stopped moving forward, but Clarke could see he wasn’t going to back down. Her body tensed up even more as her brain worked desperately to come up with a way to handle this. She just had to get Titus to listen. Before she got a chance to speak again, however, Titus cut in again. 

“I wish I could,” he said and Clarke saw the look in his eyes change. They became even more focused on her, an almost feral glint shining through. 

He started to lift his arm and Clarke panicked when she saw the gun moving to point straight at her. This couldn’t happen. Not now. 

“Lexa would never execute her duty while you live,” he continued, his voice becoming strained and Clarke desperately tried to think of something to say, something that would make him stop. 

“Hey – Titus, think,” she said, slightly out of breath from the adrenaline racing through her tensed body. “She’s gonna know it was you.” 

She knew he would never want Lexa to know that he would do something like this, so she tried. But the look in his eyes never changed, and he didn’t waver before he spoke again. 

“She’s gonna think it was him,” he all but spat, pointing the gun in Murphy’s direction. “A Skaikru weapon,” he continued as he waved the gun. “In the hands of a Skaikru thief.” 

Clarke was desperate, desperate to come up with a solution, while in reality she knew that there was none. She would never be able to stop Titus if he thought he was doing right by his Commander. And Clarke could see in his face that that was exactly what he thought. But her thoughts were abruptly halted when he continued, his glare becoming impossibly stronger. 

“She might even be angry enough to declare a war!” he bellowed and he fired, just as Clarke ducked down and behind the bed. She heard the bullet shoot through the air, way too close to her, and it ricocheted from the bedpost just above her head. 

She scrambled back up and turned around to hide behind the bed as he fired a second time, this time the bullet shattering a vase only inches behind her. She crawled forward and grabbed a stool which she threw towards Titus as she got up again, her eyes spotting the door. 

She saw Titus falling down in the corner of her eye as the stool hit him, her mind barely able to register anything besides the gun still in firmly grasped his hand and the door that would, hopefully, get her to safety. 

Clarke used the time that he was struggling to get back up to sprint for the door and quickly rip it open. 

As she busted through the door, she ran straight into a strong body and two rigid arms quickly held her steady. At the same time, she heard another gunshot come from inside the room and a blinding pain shot up her right leg. She yelped and collapsed into the body still holding her up. 

When she looked up, she saw a pair of soft green eyes filled with confusion look down at her. She would recognize those eyes anywhere and she unconsciously relaxed into Lexa’s touch. Her smell filled Clarke’s nostrils and immediately those images from before flooded her mind again. 

A sudden noise of something metal falling on the ground behind her brutally ripped her back to reality and she watched those beautiful eyes shift from her face to the scene behind Clarke. Clarke couldn’t bring herself to take her gaze away from the face before her just yet, until she saw the confusion in Lexa’s eyes disappear as understanding, then disbelief, then anger and a trace of hurt filled her eyes. 

Clarke looked behind her to see Titus looking at his Heda with sorrowful eyes, the gun useless by his feet. 

“Heda…” He whispered in a broken voice. 

“Don’t,” Lexa said firmly. 

He seemed to shrink back as he lowered his eyes to avoid her glare. 

Her blazing eyes never leaving his face, she called out “_Guards!_” and then softened her gaze as she looked back at the girl laying in her arms. Clarke also looked back up at her and, realizing she was putting almost all of her weight on Lexa, tried to stand up. However, as soon as she moved to position her right leg underneath her, she whimpered in pain as her body reminded her of the third gunshot that had sounded only moments before.

Lexa’s eyes immediately filled with worry again, as she looked down Clarke’s body to see what was causing her pain. Her gaze fixed on a spot just above Clarke’s knee and Clarke saw her eyes widen in fear. 

She looked down at her leg and was slightly taken aback by the amount of blood that had already soaked the leg of her pants and was slowly dripping onto the ground.

Lexa carefully slid her arms down Clarke’s sides and slowly set her down on the ground, just as three guards arrived at the room slightly out of breath.

“_Yes, Heda_?” One of them asked hesitantly, carefully regarding the scene in front of him. 

As Clarke examined the wound more closely, she realized it wasn’t as bad as it had seemed at first sight. The bullet had only grazed her lower thigh, and even though the pain was making her somewhat lightheaded and blood was still seeping from the wound, it wouldn’t have caused any major damage. She pressed down on the wound with both hands to slow the bleeding. 

She looked back up at Lexa’s questioning eyes with a tiny smile and softly said “It’s not too bad.” 

Relief filled Lexa’s eyes, even though her worry was still evident on her features. She straightened up however and looked at her guards, her expression hardening as she tried to erase the worry from her face. 

Even now, Clarke thought, she still won’t really admit it – admit what, exactly, she didn’t know. Her feelings? The fact that she has them? Her train of thought was halted as Lexa spoke again, her voice firm and cold. 

“_Lock this man away and make sure he is guarded at all times,_” she ordered as she glared at Titus again, who seemingly hadn’t moved since he dropped the gun. 

He seemed to shrink back slightly at her harsh words, even though Clarke thought that if he had looked Lexa in the eye at that moment, like she was doing herself, he would have seen hurt and sorrow shooting across her features at the sight of him. Almost as soon as those emotions had appeared, however, they were gone again and Lexa continued to glare at him. 

The guards eyed each other, slightly taken aback, probably wondering if their Commander was really ordering them to arrest the Flamekeeper. 

When Lexa realized that they weren’t moving to obey her order, she shifted her glare to them and all but spat a harsh “_Now!_” 

That was enough to make two of the guards quickly move forward and stand on either side of Titus, taking his arms and ushering him forward through the door. Lexa’s and Titus’ gazes locked and Titus, who seemed to be on the verge of tears, whispered “_Please, forgive me, Heda._” 

Lexa ignored his broken plea and simply continued to glare at him. Without breaking eye contact, she spoke to the third guard, “_Bring me our best healers right away._”

As the guards and Titus rounded the corner of the hallway and disappeared out of sight, Lexa sunk down next to Clarke. Worry immediately replaced the fury in her emerald eyes as she looked from her face down to the wound that was still bleeding, although it already seemed to be lessening. A soft chuckle escaped Clarke’s lips at Lexa’s sudden change in behavior and before she could think better of it, Lexa’s eyes darted back up to her face again, confusion adding to the whirlwind of emotions shining behind her eyes. Clarke smiled again at Lexa’s questioning gaze. 

For a moment, she considered telling Lexa how adorable she looked, but then she saw a movement in the corner of her eye and remembered that Murphy was still tied up in her room. 

She felt Lexa tense up again and she figured that Lexa had also just noticed Murphy. Her brows furrowed as she looked at the tied up figure and Clarke could almost hear her wondering what he was doing there. 

“It’s Murphy,” she explained to Lexa. 

Lexa still looked confused and guarded, so Clarke reassured her with a quiet “He’s a friend.” 

At that, her own brows furrowed as well, and she wondered if she could really call Murphy her friend, considering everything that had happened between them. 

But Lexa didn’t really become any less tense, not in the slightest, and she looked back at Clarke. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” She asked, her eyes flickering across Clarke’s face. But something had changed. Her expression seemed distant, worry still present in her eyes, but also something else, something much stronger, something Clarke couldn’t quite decipher. 

“Yes. I will need that healer though.” 

She smiled softly but hesitantly at Lexa, who kept her gaze trained on Clarke for a moment longer. Lexa then gave her a slight nod and she positioned Clarke with her back resting against the doorframe. 

She stood up and walked over to Murphy, eyeing him suspiciously before untying him from the chair. A murmured “Thank you” came from him as he looked from Lexa to Clarke, feeling obviously awkward at the whole situation. 

Lexa held his gaze for a few seconds before speaking. “Go find the nearest guards and tell them to show you to one of the guest rooms. You will tell me what happened here later.”

Even though Murphy’s glare made it obvious he didn’t like to be ordered around, he seemed relieved to be given an excuse to leave the two women alone. He quickly walked towards the door, his gaze shifting to Clarke for a quick second before stepping out of the room. 

When he was gone, Clarke looked back up at Lexa, expecting to see relief, maybe even happiness, in her eyes, but instead, Lexa avoided her gaze. 

“Lexa?” Clarke asked, hesitantly. 

But Lexa didn’t answer her, instead she seemed to be more focused on ignoring the girl in front of her. Her eyes flickered between the door and the floor of the room, anxiously waiting for the healer to arrive. 

Clarke’s smile had now entirely disappeared from her face and instead confusion and hurt filled her eyes. “Lexa, look at me.” She tried to say it firmly, but her voice was weak. 

She saw Lexa cringe slightly at the obvious hurt in her voice, but still she refused to look at her. 

“Please?” Clarke tried and Lexa quickly glanced at the girl on the floor, noticing that the bleeding seemed to have stopped. However, as soon as she’d seen that, her gaze left her again. 

Clarke didn’t understand what had suddenly gotten into her and the hurt was now clearly written on her face. She had seemed so worried when she found Clarke laying in her arms, only minutes before. Had she said something wrong? 

She tried to look Lexa in the eye, tried to get an answer from the face she had learned to read these last couple of weeks. But her attempts came up empty and feeling defeated, she let her stare drop from Lexa’s face to the ground as she let out a sigh. 

Both women, enveloped in their thoughts, jumped slightly as one of Lexa’s most trusted healers walked in and looked at her expectantly. Without looking at her, Lexa waved her hand in Clarke’s direction and said “_Help her._” 

Clarke felt tears well up in her eyes at Lexa’s cold, almost careless display. She whimpered softly in pain as the healer carefully touched her wound and confirmed that it was easily treatable. Through her blurry vision, Clarke couldn’t see the way Lexa winced each time Clarke made a sound of pain while the healer was working on cleaning her wound. 

As the healer finished wrapping bandages around the wound, Clarke noticed Lexa walking towards them and she quickly wiped away her yet unshed tears. She couldn’t bring herself to look up at Lexa, who came to a halt as the healer stood and put away the left over bandages. “_Will she be alright?_” 

At any other time, Clarke would have smiled at the question, at Lexa’s soft tone and at the fact that she wanted to be sure Clarke was alright. But now, all Clarke could focus on was her rigid pose and lack of affection in her eyes. 

What did I do wrong? Clarke wrecked her brain to see at what point everything they had achieved seemed to have simply vanished again. What had made Lexa become all closed off and ignorant of the hurt clearly displayed on her face? She had to make this right, she knew, but to do that, she needed Lexa to look at her, to acknowledge her. And she just wouldn’t. 

“_Yes, Heda. She will need to rest for a week, however._” 

Lexa seemed unable to even dismiss the healer after he had spoken. 

Clarke’s mind felt dizzy from all the thoughts swirling through it. Did Lexa not want to be alone with her? After all that had just happened? Lexa had laid out her feelings for Clarke to see, no more than an hour ago, and now it seemed like none of that ever happened. Had it not happened? Had she fallen asleep somewhere, had it all been a dream? A nightmare? But if so, why could she still so clearly recall the feeling of Lexa’s lips on hers, why could she still taste the salt of Lexa’s tears on her tongue? Why did the image of Lexa sitting on the bed before her, so extremely vulnerable, yet still so strong and powerful, keep crossing her mind, if it hadn’t been real? It must have been real. It _had _been real. So why did Lexa make it seem like it wasn’t? 

She should talk to Lexa. She _had _to. So instead of waiting for Lexa to dismiss her healer, who was looking at her with a look of hesitant confusion, she took the lead. 

“Please, leave us,” she spoke softly, in a tired voice, and the healer looked towards her, then back to Lexa, who gave him a slight nod. He quickly turned and walked passed Clarke through the door, leaving the two women alone in the room once more. A very, very quiet room. Too quiet. 

The silence was driving out Clarke’s thoughts, it was making her head spin and feel full, so she leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes, defeated, tired. She desperately needed that silence to be broken, she needed Lexa to say something, anything, that would tell her what she had done wrong and more importantly, how to fix it. She had to _fix _it. They had had it. That moment in Lexa’s bedroom had been _it _for them. Clarke had finally been able to forgive Lexa. No, no, that wasn’t what happened. In that moment, Clarke had finally been able to _acknowledge _that she had _already _forgiven Lexa. And now it was gone. And she didn’t know how to fix it. _She had to fix it_. 

Lexa, however, seemed to be in no rush to break that silence. Instead, she walked over to Clarke and knelt down beside her. 

Clarke looked up at her expectantly, hopeful. 

But green didn’t meet blue. Closed off, guarded, unreadable green didn’t meet hurt, confused, defeated blue. 

Lexa moved one arm around Clarke shoulders and the other underneath her legs, careful not to touch the fresh bandages. Clarke shivered underneath her cold touch. But Lexa’s hands were warm and yet still, she was cold. 

Lexa picked her up slowly and walked over to the bed, her gaze trained forward. 

She carefully laid Clarke down on the soft furs and as she moved her hands away, Clarke tried to hold her wrist, but her arm was weak, her grasp not strong enough to hold Lexa into place. 

Lexa seemed to shrink back from the touch, strong emotions flashing across her features. It didn’t last long enough for Clarke to understand what it had been. Lexa stood up and looked at Clarke, seemed to look at every part of her except for her eyes. Why wouldn’t she look her in the eye? 

But Clarke knew the answer, she just didn’t like it. If Lexa looked her in the eye, she wouldn’t be able to hold her guard up. Clarke would be able to read her, and they both knew that. 

“Do you need anything, Clarke?” It was distant, empty, meaningless. 

Except for the way her voice broke ever so slightly as she spoke her name. 

Except for the way her lip trembled from the force of held back words fighting to be spoken. 

Clarke shook her head, the action causing her mind to spin again, her vision turning blurry. Or was that because of the wetness slowly running down her cheek? 

She closed her eyes in an effort to remain calm, but when she opened them again, panic rushed over her, making her eyes widen, making her breath hitch in her throat, making her chest tighten as if a boulder had suddenly been dropped on it. 

Lexa was walking towards the door. 

Lexa was walking away from her. Again. 

Again, she was going to be alone. Again, it had all been for nothing. Again, Lexa showed her how love was weakness. 

Except that it _wasn’t_. She knew that now. 

She would fix it. And now was her chance to do that. 

She forced the words out, forced herself to breathe again, because it had to be done now. Before Lexa walked out that door. _Now_. 

“Lexa!” 

The name was familiar on her tongue, the mere sound of it calming her breathing ever so slightly. 

She stopped. Clarke breathed again. 

“Lexa, please don’t go…” 

It was a mere whisper, a broken plea, but Lexa heard. Clarke knew she heard. And now she was going to have to wait for her to respond. It was up to Lexa now. And Clarke knew, that Lexa knew that too. 

The silence seemed to go on forever. Nothing changed. 

So Clarke decided to let her own guard down completely. 

She had already opened herself up to Lexa in a way she’d never done before. Not to her mother, not to her friends, not to anyone. And now she was going to throw her feelings out there on the floor in between them. All of them. Every last one of them. 

She was going to throw them out there for Lexa to stomp on, to crush, to rip apart. 

She was going to give Lexa the chance to break her in a way that she felt like she would never be able to fix again. 

But for some reason, it didn’t feel like weakness. It felt powerful. So she said it. Now, before it would be too late. 

“I want you, Lexa. Only you.” 

The silence that formed after that was so close to unbearable that Clarke felt new tears well up in her eyes. At that moment, she thought that she might have screwed up completely. What if she had only driven Lexa away even further now? What if Lexa would break her, right here, right now? She wouldn’t be able to fix herself. She knew that. 

And then, Lexa turned around. 

Green met blue. 

Pained, desperate green met hurt, hopeful blue. 

Clarke’s mind was unable to register Lexa moving forward and then her mind blanked out completely as Lexa’s lips were back on hers, desperate, anxious, loving. The mixture of their salty tears a bittersweet reminder of all the hardship, all the hurt, the anger, the sadness, the cruelty, the brokenness between the two of them and in their world, but at that moment, all that was forgotten. It was just Lexa’s lips on hers. 

As they broke apart for air, their breathing heavy and trembling, desperate, teary green searched for permission in just as desperate, teary, reassuring blue. 

And they crashed back together, the ground meeting the sky, and for a moment, that was all there was. Only their lips on each other’s, only their hands clawing desperately at each other, tangling in their hair. 

There was only them, and for once, that was okay. 

For once, they were free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading the first chapter! Please leave a review with what parts you liked about this chapter, so I know what you guys appreciate! Also, if you want, follow me on tumblr at /yourinfinitehearteyes.  
Much love and until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow my tumblr at /yourinfinitehearteyes


End file.
